


Chronology

by Half, LeftPawedPolarBear, TheGaySmurf



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: 31 Ways to Break Skillz, Canon Compliant, Cute Kids, F/F, F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:50:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8980465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Half/pseuds/Half, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeftPawedPolarBear/pseuds/LeftPawedPolarBear, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGaySmurf/pseuds/TheGaySmurf
Summary: "There is more to life than death.Sometimes there are accidents. Sometimes there are parties. Children, injuries, inside jokes, and battles.But always- always -there is love. And the family bound by it."We open at the close.





	1. Might Not Be Fancy, But Family Is Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew (plus some notable additions) convenes to celebrate the life of a dear friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Hol(l)idays!
> 
> 2035, 20 years post-finale

_**APRIL 18, 2035** _

 

 _“Wyatt Henry Haught, if I come up there and you are still in bed there’s going to be hell to pay!”_ Waverly hollered up the stairs. “Wynonna and Dolls will be here any minute!”

“Swear jar, Mama!” came the reply, quickly followed by the sound of footsteps in the second floor hallway. Waverly sighed, fishing around in her purse for a quarter as her son emerged from the stairwell, eyes bright with glee and hands shoved in his pockets.

“Besides,” he continued, “didn’t you stop giving a _rat’s ass_ about _hell_ , like, 11 years ago?” Wyatt dropped two quarters in the jar, went up on tiptoes to kiss his mother’s cheek, and skipped out the door before Waverly could reply.

Waverly shook her head, dropping her own quarter into the jar before peeking into the kitchen, where Nicole was preparing sandwiches for their picnic lunch. “Sounds like Wynonna’s gonna be getting her pizza party _without_ cheating this time around,” said Nicole, giving Waverly a peck on the lips before continuing to mix the large bowl of tuna salad in front of her.

“Is it really cheating if she’s just putting a quarter in every time she swears like the rest of us?”

“I don’t know what it’s called if she stands in front of the jar with the stack of quarters, rattling off every swear word she knows, but I wouldn’t call it playing _fair.”_

Waverly felt Nicole’s shoulders still, then relax as she wrapped her arms around Nicole’s waist, her nose between Nicole’s shoulder blades. “Whatever you say, _Sheriff Haught,_ ” Waverly said, grinning at the way the words sent a shiver down Nicole’s spine.

Nicole put the spoon down and turned to face Waverly, jumping at the sound of loud knocking on the front door. “Wynonna,” they said together, but Waverly had scarcely started towards the door when a third voice rang out from the second floor as feet stomped down the stairs.

“Aunt Wynonna!”

There was a flash of dark hair as Nicole and Waverly’s daughter, Astor, bounded through the hallway and threw open the front door.

“Hey, kid, long time no see!” said Wynonna, pulling her niece into a bear hug. “It’s been, what, 24 hours?”

“Would’ve been less if you had come for dinner last night,” said Astor, frowning and crossing her arms.

Wynonna raised her hands in mock surrender. “I really am sorry about that, baby girl, I got caught up with work stuff at Shorty’s. Inventory takes _ages!_ There are mugs--” she poked Astor’s arm, “glasses--” she poked her stomach, “all that whiskey--” Astor burst into giggles as Wynonna poked her nose.

“And I’m an old woman, I move slower than I used to!”

“For Pete’s sake, Wynonna, you’re 47, not 80,” scolded Waverly, peeking into the entryway from the kitchen. “Better you running the place than Gus; she _is_ an old woman.”

“Better not let _her_ hear you say anything like that,” muttered Wynonna to Astor, who laughed again.

Waverly caught Wynonna’s eye as she looked up. “Dolls on his way?” she asked.

“Left the city two hours ago, should be here any minute,” said Wynonna, turning her face slightly to hide her small, excited smile. She had been keeping up the act for decades if she had been keeping it up for a day, but Waverly learned long ago that it was foolish to protest the charade. Wynonna and Dolls were free to care about each other in whatever way they wished.

“Well, get in here while you wait,” said Waverly, tugging her sister towards the kitchen, “Nicole’s working on the tuna sandwiches, you can get started on the cold cuts.”

 

+++++

 

“Will Matteo be joining us this year?” Gus asked Chrissy as she dropped a large bag of lemons on the kitchen table with a loud thump.

Chrissy looked up from the sandwiches she was slicing and wrapping. “Matt’s caught up with work in the city,” she replied, “but Bella and Rose are heading over after their volleyball practice.” She peered out the window. “In fact, they should be here any minute…”

“Think fast!” shouted a voice outside the house. The adults in the kitchen laughed at the sight of Rose lobbing a volleyball at an unsuspecting Wyatt, who turned just in time for the ball to hit him square in the chest. Wyatt grinned as he picked up the ball and threw it back to its owner. Rose and Bella dropped their bikes and raced to stand on opposite sides of Wyatt, who jumped up and down in a vain attempt to catch the ball in the twins’ impromptu game of monkey-in-the-middle. Gus snorted and got to work cutting the lemons to be squeezed for fresh lemonade.

“I think he does it on purpose,” Chrissy said quietly to Waverly.

“Hmm?”

“Matt. My husband,” said Chrissy. “I think he misses the picnics intentionally.”

“ _Oh,_ ” said Waverly, as she turned off the sink and set aside the apples she was rinsing. “Do you want me to say something? I can, you know. I don’t mi--”

“No, no, that’s fine,” Chrissy said hastily, “I don’t think he means anything bad by it. I just think--well--he still doesn’t know the whole story behind the curse, but he knows enough to realize we’ve been through a lot together, and I think he just wants us to have these days for ourselves. To be with each other, you know?”

Waverly smiled and nudged Chrissy gently with her elbow. “Yeah,” she said, “I know.”

 

+++++

 

The anniversary fell on a Saturday that year.

Those were Waverly’s favorite years, when she had no classes to teach, Dolls could drive in from the city, Nicole could take the day off, and the kids didn’t have school. Those years, they could all come together and _celebrate._

It really was a celebration; even the first anniversary of Doc’s death ten years prior could hardly have been considered a mournful affair, with three-year-old Astor chasing Ace around and one-year-old Wyatt sitting up gingerly on the picnic blanket. His piercing blue eyes followed his sister’s progress as she and the aging dog frolicked through the open field, Ace’s dark fur and Astor’s dark skin standing out against the bright green grass.

Wynonna and Dolls, Waverly and Nicole had sat there, as they did every year thereafter, drinking beer and laughing at the collection of wild tales that was Doc Holliday’s life. The longer they stayed and the lower the sun dipped in the sky, the easier it became to accept how Doc had lived a long life, a full life, and a life that had come to an end when the time was right, when the man was ready.

Some things had changed over the years. On the second anniversary, once Wyatt had learned to walk and run, he joined Astor in the fields, playing hide-and-seek and tag and make-believe until their mothers called them back to the blanket for sandwiches and lemonade.

On the third anniversary Chrissy and a retired Sheriff Nedley showed up with a bottle of bourbon and a bouquet of flowers. It was only natural; by the final days of the curse the Nedleys had become trusted allies and friends. In the following years they never missed a single picnic.

On the fourth anniversary the two children chased a young puppy with white fur through the meadow and Ace joined the group from her own final resting place beside her old friend’s grave.

 

+++++

 

“Guys, do you realize what day it is?” Wynonna exclaimed suddenly, causing Nicole to jump and jostle her bottle of beer.

Dolls sat in confused silence. Nedley shifted in his folding chair and Chrissy straightened briefly before relaxing against his legs. Neither spoke.

“...Yes?” said Waverly, quizzically, gesturing to the picnic blanket, the kids playing in the field, the gravestone inscribed simply with _John Henry “Doc” Holliday._

“What? No! I mean, _yes,_ obviously.” Wynonna ran her fingers through her hair. “Ok, so it’s not _today,_ exactly, but this _year.”_

“This year…” Nedley smiled and snapped his fingers, triumphant. “The black sheep returns.”

Waverly rolled her eyes. “Wynonna, your birthday was like six months ago. And so was the twentieth anniversary of your becoming the Heir.”

“Yeah,” Nicole chimed in, “and you _specifically_ told us you didn’t want to celebrate.”

“Of course I didn’t want to celebrate!” Wynonna shoved Nicole’s shoulder, spilling several more droplets of beer from her bottle and pushing Nicole’s shirt sleeve dangerously close to an open bottle of ketchup. “What kind of Earp likes to celebrate their birthday? Birthdays meant death! And loneliness! For as long as I can remember!”

Wynonna stood up, pacing in the tall grass in front of Doc’s gravestone. Behind her, shouting could be heard as a frisbee flew through the air and into the open arms of Astor, Wyatt, or Bella and Rose, Chrissy’s teenaged twin daughters.

“Birthdays meant loneliness,” Wynonna repeated, “and I don’t give two shits about my birthday. But remember what else happened that year?”

More silence.

Wynonna pointed at Dolls.

“Stuck-up city boy tried to bite off more than he could chew and ended up stuck with the town pariah as his partner in crime--I mean, law enforcement,” Wynonna amended quickly, smirking, then pointed at Nedley.

“Small-town sheriff decided to trust said pariah for reasons still unknown, and said trust turned out to be the right decision, also for reasons unknown.” Waverly opened her mouth to protest, but Wynonna pressed on, pointing at Nicole.

“Town pariah almost got the not-so-naive rookie cop killed, but it all worked out because the cop survived and won the heart of my baby sister with her face and her cop stuff and her top-shelf ass.”

Nedley cleared his throat uncomfortably, but Chrissy laughed as Nicole wrapped her arms around her wife.

“I’ve never celebrated a birthday in my life…” Wynonna frowned. “I guess I have, once or twice,” she conceded, “but I’ve never really _celebrated._ Never like _this,_ ” she gestured with her bottle at Doc and Ace, side by side in the field. “Because Doc’s death--Doc’s _life,_ I mean, is worth a toast or two.” She sat down with a huff. “And so are all of you.”

Waverly raised her bottle. “To Doc?” she asked.

Wynonna raised hers as well. “Yeah. But screw birthdays. Screw the curse.” She clinked her bottle against Waverly’s.

“To twenty years of family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Credit: leftpawedpolarbear


	2. I'll Be The Fighter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2027, 12 years post-finale

_**SEPTEMBER 13, 2027** _

 

Astor Haught was a known troublemaker.

She did well in school, and she was overall respectful, but she had the wit of both her mothers combined and her Aunt Wynonna’s sense of tact.

It didn’t always make her the best _student_.

“It’s not funny, Nicole.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“It’s not. _Funny._ ”

“Okay. It’s not funny.”

“You’re still _laughing_.”

The atmosphere of the Haught living room was a mix of amusement and frustration. Nicole pacing with her hand clamped over her mouth. Waverly standing with her hands on her hips, frowning back and forth between her wife and her six-year-old.

“I’m sorry,” Nicole mumbled through her fingers. “It’s _hysterical_.”

“If Mom thinks it’s funny, I don’t get in trouble, right?” Astor challenged, staring down Waverly.

Waverly gave Nicole an exasperated look. “See what you’ve done?”

Nicole just shrugged, choking down a giggle. “How can I not find it funny?”

Astor folded her tiny arms and set her jaw and defended herself with, “He called y’both ‘disgusting’! It was _fair_ to punch his dumb face!”

Waverly almost smiled. “I thought you said you didn’t do it? I thought he… what was it? Ran into the slide on the playground? And _that’s_ how he broke his nose?”

Astor grinned sweetly. “Yes, Mama.”

“She is _absolutely_ your kid,” Waverly muttered, glaring at Nicole, who was still struggling not to laugh.

“I think we should blame Wynonna for this. Astor takes much more after her than she does after me.”

“You _would_ say that.” Waverly crouched down in front of Astor. “Honey. You can’t hit people to solve your problems. Even if they deserve it. No matter what they say about your mom and me. You just can’t do it, sweetheart.”

Nicole rested her hand on the top of Astor’s head. “She’s right, Hawk. I know I’m laughing, but I shouldn’t be. You started your first grade year off with a fight. That’s not exactly the best impression to make.” She lowered her voice slightly. “Totally an _Earp_ way, but you can’t do that.”

Astor shuffled her feet, staring at the ground. “M’sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Waverly hugged her tightly. “You’re still grounded for a week. But you have to be. You understand that, right?”

“Mhm.”

Nicole messed up Astor’s hair lightly. “Go on upstairs, kiddo. Do your homework before dinner.”

“Okay, Mom.”

Once the girl disappeared up the steps and Waverly stood, Nicole cracked and broke into uncontrolled giggles, resting her head on Waverly’s shoulder. “She _punched the Hardy kid_.”

“I’m aware,” Waverly said with a groan.

“I’m so proud,” Nicole snickered, her voice muffled by Waverly’s shirt. “Oh my God. I’ve never been more proud in my life.”

Waverly smacked her arm. “You’re going to end up _rewarding_ her, aren’t you?”

Nicole laughed for a few more seconds before wheezing out, “Why would I?”

“Because _you_ punched a Hardy.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Nicole said, another giggle cracking her voice.

Waverly pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “This is… what, the third phone call? First she’s trying to correct the teachers, then she’s trying to lead the other kids in protest of the lack of cookies in the school lunches, now this. Our kid isn’t even going to finish _first grade_.”

Nicole swallowed down the rest of her laughter and straightened off of Waverly, amusement still sparkling in her eyes. “At least she’s fun.”

“You really are finding this entertaining, aren’t you?”

“I really, really am.”

Waverly sighed heavily. “I never should’ve raised children with you. It was a mistake.”

“It was _genius_ , babe,” Nicole said, winking at her.

“Don’t do that.”

“Should I go punch Champ Hardy? Because if I remember correctly, that really made you-”

Waverly put her hand over Nicole’s mouth. “Don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Credit: Half


	3. Don't Be Stupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2033, 18 years post-finale

**_AUGUST 31 st, 2033_ **

 

Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, Nicole registers what she thinks might be laughter.  It’s hard for her to care about that right now, though.  Not while she’s reclined on the couch in her office with Waverly draped on top of her and her wife’s tongue in her mouth. 

It’s hard for her to care about _anything_ when Waverly is kissing her.

Waverly had stopped by with sandwiches and fresh coffee, and they’d eaten lunch at Nicole’s desk while she looked over the week’s reports and Waverly graded a stack of papers.  But when Nicole had tossed her pen down on the folder and pushed herself out of her chair to stretch, her joints cracking in the process, Waverly had gotten that familiar glint in her eyes.

There’s less than ten minutes left on her lunch break now, but she can’t think of a better way to spend them then having Waverly push her down onto the couch and make out with her the same way they did all those years ago.  Nicole hears the laughter again through the closed door, but continues to ignore it because Waverly’s hands are starting to wander, and that’s far more important.

Or at least it _was_. 

Until a loud squawk sounds from the radio on Nicole’s shoulder and causes both of them to jump.  They stare at each other for a moment, startled, and then giggle like teenagers when Nicole reaches for the mic.

“Thanks, Murphy,” she says, trying not to snicker.

“No problem, boss,” Murphy returns, obviously struggling with the same thing.

A few things have changed in the eighteen years since Waverly had tackled Nicole that first time.  They’re married now.  They have two beautiful children.  Nicole is the Sheriff.  This is now _her_ office – _her_ couch – and they no longer have to worry about getting caught. 

Mostly because everybody already knows what they’re doing. 

On more than one occasion, they’ve gotten a little carried away and accidentally pressed the button on Nicole’s radio, producing an open mic which has inadvertently transmitted their activities to the entire department.  The first several times it happened, they thought they might die of embarrassment.  Although, the mortification factor was apparently never high enough to get them to _stop_ making out on Nicole’s couch.

Now it doesn’t even faze them. 

Or Nicole’s officers. 

If the open mic lasts for more than a few seconds, one of them will simply squawk her to let her know so that she can shift the radio into the clear, and she can carry on letting Waverly rumple her shirt and mess up her hair. 

No one even thinks twice about it anymore.

Waverly steals a few more kisses and then pats Nicole’s cheek and gathers up her stack of papers before scurrying out the door, leaving Nicole breathless on her couch.

Never a dull moment in Purgatory.

 

+++++

 

**_OCTOBER 7 th, 2033_ **

 

“Sheriff!  Are you alri—”

There’s a long moment of silence where the only thing that can be heard is the pane of glass rattling in the door after it slammed into the wall behind the frame, accompanied by a muffled groan coming from the vicinity of Nicole’s neck.

“O-oh…  Oh my god.  I’m so—  I’m so sorry, ma’am…  I thought I heard…  but you’re…”

“Officer Scott.”

“Y-yes?”

“Your shift is over at five?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Be in my office at four-thirty.”

“I, uh…  O-okay.  I mean.  Yes, ma’am.”

Another long beat of silence.

“Officer Scott.”

“Y-yes, ma’am?”

“Why are you still in my office?”

“Oh!  R-right.  I’ll just…  get back to my paperwork…”

“Close the door on your way out.”

The second it clicks shut, Nicole drops her head back against couch with a loud groan and Waverly can’t help herself.  The muffled snickering that had been coming from Nicole’s neck is now full blown laughter.

“I swear to god, that boy is gonna be the death of me.”

“What did you expect from a kid that goes by ‘Scooter’?  You’re that one that hired him,” Waverly points out, finally raising her head from where it had been buried against Nicole’s shoulder. 

She’s perched in Nicole’s lap, straddling her hips, her arms draped loosely around Nicole’s neck.  Waverly watches with amusement as Nicole brings a hand up from where it had been grasping her hip to scrub it across her red face.

“Don’t remind me.”

“How about if I remind you what we were doing before the interruption?” Waverly asks with a smirk and leans down for another kiss, but Nicole just whines instead.

“That’s what got us into this situation in the first place.”  She shifts beneath Waverly so she can readjust her radio.  “Your enthusiasm keyed up my mic.  Again,” she adds with a pointed look.

Waverly pouts and rests her weight back on Nicole’s thighs.

“Didn’t we already go through this with the last one?  You need to just give them a talk when they start,” Waverly laughs.

“He’s had _the talk_.  They all get _the talk_.  I guess he wasn’t listening.”  Nicole frowns.  “You _know_ the other guys are laughing their asses off right now.  I think they must have turned this into some sort of initiation.”

“Well, if you would just lock the door like I keep asking…”  Waverly toys with Nicole’s unbuttoned collar.

Some things never change.

Nicole swats playfully at Waverly’s hip.  “I was just sitting here innocently when you crawled into my lap.  It’s not my fault you’re so overwhelmed by your hot wife that you can’t control yourself long enough to lock a damn door.”  Waverly starts to balk, but Nicole kisses her nose before she can.  “You’d think you would have learned your lesson about doors with locks after all these years.”

Waverly shoves at her shoulder and climbs off of her lap.

“You’re no fun.”  She smooths out her skirt with a sigh.  “I should be getting back to work anyway.  My students are expecting grades for their latest papers before the long weekend.”

Nicole pushes herself up from the couch and wraps her arms around Waverly’s waist, resting her chin on her shoulder while Waverly gathers up her work and stuffs it into her bag.  A smile begins to form as she gets an idea.

“Want me to pick Wyatt up from school today?”

Waverly leans her head back to look at Nicole.  There’s a hint of something flashing in her eyes.  Waverly thinks it looks like mischief.

“Why…?” she asks cautiously.

“You _just_ said you have a lot of work to do,” Nicole answers with an innocent grin.  “Astor already has soccer practice after school.  I can pick Wyatt up and keep him out of your hair for a little while.”

Waverly narrows her eyes as she studies Nicole’s face.  Something is going on here.  She just can’t figure out _what_.

“Don’t you have your _meeting_ with Scooter this afternoon?  You’re not letting him off the hook that easily, are you?”

“No,” Nicole laughs.  “He definitely isn’t off the hook for not just squawking like everyone else.  I’ve got something special in mind for him.”  Nicole smirks, but then shakes her head.  “But that’s not until later.  There’s plenty of time for me to be back here with Wyatt.  He can do is homework in the bullpen, and then we’ll swing by and pick up some dinner on the way home after Astor is done with practice.”

Waverly knows her wife is up to something, but the prospect of some peace and quiet to finish her work before the weekend is too good to pass up.

“Anything but burgers from Shorty’s or pizza, and you’ve got a deal.”

“Done,” Nicole says, kissing Waverly’s cheek with a grin.  “Now get out of here Professor Haught.  You’ve caused enough trouble for one day.”

Waverly grabs Nicole by the collar and drags her into one last kiss, and then heads for the door, mumbling as she goes.

“Pretty sure I’m not the one causing trouble right now…”

 

+++++

 

“Mom!”

Nine-year-old Wyatt’s face lights up when he spots Nicole’s Explorer parked across the street from the school.  He dashes toward her, stopping to check the crosswalk for traffic, and clambers up into the front seat beside her.

“Hey, buddy.  How was school?”

“Aced my science test!” he says exuberantly.

“I knew you would,” Nicole beams proudly and holds up her hand.  Wyatt gives her an enthusiastic high-five and then gets himself settled, buckling his seatbelt.  “How much homework do you have?”

“Not much,” Wyatt shrugs dismissively.  “Just my spelling words and a math worksheet.  I think I can finish it before supper.”

“Good.”  Nicole leans in and lowers her voice like she’s about to share a secret.  “Because I could use your help with something.”

Wyatt’s blue eyes twinkle as his lips curl into a mischievous grin.  “What’s the plan, boss?”

“I have to have a _meeting_ with Scooter this afternoon.”

“Uh oh.”  Wyatt scrunches up his face while he thinks for a moment and then seems to come to some kind of conclusion.  “Did he forget to squawk?”

Nicole laughs so hard she nearly knocks her black Stetson off when her head drops back against the headrest of her seat.

“Yeah, kid,” she says, trying to regain her composure.  “He forgot to squawk.”

“Rookies,” Wyatt mumbles, shaking his head with a serious expression and Nicole loses it again.  He sits up a little straighter in his seat and folds his arms across his chest.  “Don’t worry, Mom.  I know just what to do.”

“Standard rules apply,” she says with a pointed look.

Wyatt begins ticking off on his fingers.  “Don’t tell Astor,” he starts, and Nicole nods.  “Mama can _never_ find out.”  She nods again.  “And most important…” he pauses and smirks at her.  “Ice cream on the way home.”

Nicole grins and ruffles his dark hair.  “I think that about covers it, buddy.  You in?”

“Like Flynn,” he answers with one of her favorite lines and gives her a fist bump.  Wyatt has always been her partner-in-crime, and Nicole _loves_ this dynamic they share.

“Alright, kiddo.  Let’s roll.”  Nicole starts the Explorer and Wyatt reaches for the radio console between the seats.

“Deputy Sheriff Haught is 10-41. Reporting for duty,” he says into the mic, waiting for a response.

 _“10-4 Deputy.  Do you have a status on Sheriff Haught?”_ the dispatcher asks, playing along with the familiar game.

“Sheriff Haught is 10-8 and en route to the station,” he answers matter-of-factly.

_“10-4  We’ll see you soon.”_

Nicole drops her hat on Wyatt’s head as she pulls away from the curb with a smile. 

 

+++++

 

Wyatt is sitting behind the high counter in front of Nicole’s office, quietly doing his homework, when Officer Scott shuffles in with a pale face and a jittery step.  He looks past Wyatt at Nicole’s closed door, fidgeting with his hat in his hands.  Wyatt drops his pencil and crosses his arms, giving the rookie a stern look.

“You have a meeting with Sheriff Haught, Officer Scott,” he says.  It’s not a question.

“Uhh…  Y-yeah,” Officer Scott answers, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.  “I-is she in her office?”

Wyatt tilts his head to the side and regards him with narrowed eyes.

“She is,” he says after a moment.  Officer Scott starts to make his way around the end of the counter, but Wyatt holds up a hand to stop him.  “Not yet.  She’s busy.”  Officer Scott stops dead in his tracks, clearly terrified of this kid.

Wyatt picks up his pencil and goes back to copying down math problems in his notebook.  Officer Scott starts shifting his weight restlessly from one foot to the other.

“Heard about what happened,” Wyatt says without looking up, his tone low and calculated.  He can _hear_ Officer Scott gulp.

“W-what are…  I don’t…  That was, uhh…”

“There’s a squawking policy in place for a reason, Officer Scott.”

Officer Scott wheezes and has to lean forward and clutch the side of the counter to hold himself up.

Wyatt finally looks up from his homework, straightening up on his stool so that he’s taller than the hunched over man standing beside him.

“Oh.  By the way.  My mom is ready to see you now.”

The distinct sound of snickering comes from the far corner of the bullpen, but neither of them acknowledges it at the moment.  Officer Scott makes a strangled noise in his throat as he drags himself over to door and forces himself to knock.

“Enter,” Nicole calls from within.

He opens the door with hesitation and finds the Sheriff sitting behind the desk with her arms crossed and an enormous smirk plastered across her face.  It’s clear she knows exactly what just transpired outside her office.

Officer Scott turns and gapes one last time at the nine-year-old that just handed him his ass.

Wyatt’s face remains neutral and he just gives the officer a small shrug.

“Shoulda just squawked, dude.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Credit: TheGaySmurf

**Author's Note:**

> We've decided to begin with this chapter because it provides a fairly concise summary of where we think the characters will end up 20 years after the season 1 finale. Despite the title, none of the chapters to follow will actually be posted in chronological order. However we will make sure to include dates corresponding to when these snapshots take place in the two decades between the end of season one and this picnic.
> 
> Find us on Tumblr at [youreagoodliar](http://http://youreagoodliar.tumblr.com), [leftpawedpolarbear](http://http://leftpawedpolarbear.tumblr.com), and [iamthegaysmurf](http://http://iamthegaysmurf.tumblr.com)


End file.
